Mama Who Bore Me
by futurestar26
Summary: Wendla is a mother herself, and now it is her turn to explain where babies come from! Enjoy the one-shot, rated T just in case-Review!


**It's been forever since I've written something for Spring Awakening! I thought I'd write a little something since I got my tour tickets for April :)**

**This just popped into my head! Enjoy!**

**I don't own SA. Oh, and Wendla's alive in this one, married to Melchi, big happy family, LOL**

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Wendla had just gotten back from her eldest daughter Crimilda's house. It was hard to believe that the little girl she had raised from just a small babe was now a mother for the third time. A third strapping young boy to add to the family. Wendla and Melchior had gone to visit the baby while their other children were sleeping. Now Wendla was to collect them all and bring them back to Crimilda's.

Her two boys were easy to find. They were in the yard, climbing trees. The minute they heard their new nephew had been born, they took off down the road without even waiting for their mother. Now just to get her other daughter and be on her way.

"Ilda!" she shouted, making her way up the stairs. "Idla, it's time to go!"

"I'm dressing!" her daughter shouted in reply.

Wendla knocked on her daughter's bedroom door before entering. Ilda stood in front of her mirror, her dark hair flowing freely down her back, wearing dark blue knee-high stockings and a shimmering, near translucent cream colored dress, not even covering her knees. Wendla recognized it immediately as an old dress of hers. One she thought she had locked away in the attic.

"Ilda, where did you get that?" she asked. "Put on a proper dress now."

"Oh, Mama," Ilda said, rushing to her mother. "Isn't this beautiful? I found it upstairs. Was it yours? It must have been. Oh, it's lovely. Let me wear it."

"No, dear. Girls of your age shouldn't be wearing dresses like that. Those are for babies."

"Babies aren't this big, Mama," Ilda said, almost laughing.

Wendla took a good look at her daughter. Ilda was a very pretty girl, she really was, with light blue eyes and ebony curls that matched her father's. She was almost fifteen, but still had a very childish look to her face. The rest of her body was quite mature though, Wendla noticed.

"No, child," she said, "but come, it is time to visit your sister. Another boy she has been blessed with. Just put on a proper dress."

"But what is wrong with this one?"

"I've already told you!"

Ilda pouted, but didn't protest again. She grabbed a light green dress from her wardrobe, something much more appropriate. As she buttoned up the front, she said, "Mama, I am an aunt again, but I do not know how babies get here."

Wendla froze. She remembered having this same conversation with her mother. And she remembered exactly what that got her. A child at Ilda's age. But could she bring herself to tell the whole truth to her own daughter? She swore to herself that she would never keep such a thing from her children. And she didn't. Crimilda had just never asked.

"What do you mean, child?" she asked slowly. "Surely you cannot expect me to-"

"I expect you to know," Ilda said sharply. "After all, you have four children. Do you not remember how they got here?"

"Don't take on a tone with me. I'll tell you, of course. But now, it is not the time! We cannot keep your sister waiting."

"Mama, honestly. It won't take more than a few minutes. Do just tell me. How bad can it be?"

Very, Wendla wanted to say, but instead she sighed. She was going to figure it all out eventually. And better from her mother than from one of the boys in town, in his own hayloft...

"Alright, alright," Wendla said, sitting down on Ilda's bed. "Come, sit with me." Ilda did. "Listen very carefully. First off, I do not think you are ready to hear of such things, but you must know. I will try to put this all into a context that you will understand." She took a deep breath as Ilda watched, eyes growing more and more impatient. "Well, there's something...something that a man and woman do. Together. You follow?"

"Yes, Mama," Ilda said, nodding, looking all too anxious for the explanation.

"Together they...well, together they create a child."

"I could have figured out that much."

"Yes, well, there's more," Wendla found herself saying. "In order to create a child together, well...First, of course, they must be in love. You can only create a child with love. And of course, this thing they do together is special and should be done only when they are married. And with each other. Understand?"

"Yes, go on."

"It...Well...I'm not exactly sure of all the terminology the children are using today. But remember how I said you can only create a child with love? Well...a husband and wife make...love."

"Make love? But how?" Ilda asked.

"Oh, dear heavens!" Wendla said to herself. "Ilda, it is something very hard to explain. It is a passionate thing, a dangerous thing. Something all too heated for me to explain...properly to you now. Let your husband explain it in his way, like your father did for me. All I can tell you...from...personal experience...is that you will be scared and unsure of what to do with yourself when the time comes to...make love with your husband, your one and only love. But you will just lie back and get swept up in the moment. And before you know what has happened, it will all be over, and you will be with child! There! Let us visit Crimilda now!" She stood and headed for the door.

"So that's it?" Ilda asked, idling in her room. "Just lie back and let the man do all the work?"

Wendla laughed. "Well, yes, I suppose."

"But what does it feel like?"

Wendla's eyes widened. What kind of daughter was she raising? "Why don't you just find out for yourself? Let's go." She hurried down the stairs, hoping she wouldn't regret telling her daughter all of this.

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**What do you think? Please review! I hope you enjoyed :)**


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